


The Stars Among Us

by angeloscastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-12 05:24:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angeloscastiel/pseuds/angeloscastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night the angels fell, Earth gained thousands of new lost and confused citizens. And while they may have lost their wings and their grace, two of Heaven's angels may have gained something far more important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Charlie has come to accept that weird stuff is just going to be a part of her life, but truth be told, she likes to have a comfortable break of six months to a year between the bouts of weird. But last week the sky was alight with what Dean says were falling angels, and Charlie’s busy rereading the Supernatural books about Anna and working out exactly what thousands of fallen angels means for the world – which as far as she can work out just means a few thousand extra people wandering around with amnesia and no applicable life skills.

She wonders if she’s seen any over the past week, wonders whether she would even recognise them if she did, then realises she’s out of Doritos and milk and any form of vegetable whatsoever and decides it’s time she ventured out to the store, and the answer to her musings is standing at the counter.

Charlie guesses the girl is about her age, but that’s where the similarities end. The girl is dressed like she’s heading for a day at the office – but has been wearing the same thing for a week. Her curly brown hair is wild, and she’s pointing what looks worryingly like a knife at the cashier.

“I’m an angel of the Lord,” she hisses, and Charlie decides it’s time to step in.

“Oh, there you are…Arya,” she says, blurting out the first name she thinks of and instantly regretting her three-day-long Game of Thrones marathon – “Sorry,” she says to the cashier, grabbing the girl’s shoulders and firmly steering her out the door. “Big night…”

Once outside, the girl twists out of Charlie’s grip and wheels around, knife now pointed at her.

“Um,” Charlie gulps. She really didn’t think this one through. “Hold on. Don’t stab me.” The girl doesn’t lower her knife, and Charlie doesn’t blame her. _Don’t stab me_ isn’t a very compelling reason, but she holds up her hands in surrender. “It’s okay. I know what you are,” she says quickly, and she feels a bit like she’s in a trashy movie, but at least the girl has lowered her knife now and is looking at her quizzically.

“You do?”

“Well, you did just tell that cashier you were an angel. Well, I’m not sure if _told_ is the right word here. Maybe more _threatened_. He’s still watching us…maybe we should leave. I don’t want him to call the cops or anything…uh…”

The girl allows Charlie to lead her back to her apartment and wanders around the kitchen, looking curiously at the dishes in the sink and the toaster and looking startled when she pulls the fridge handle and it opens. Charlie steers her over to the couch, sits her down and takes the knife from her. “So,” she begins conversationally. “You fell with the others, right? Last week.”

“How do you know about angels?”

“I have these friends who…uh…know about this stuff. Dean and Sam Winchester?”

“The Righteous Man and Lucifer’s vessel?”

“Let’s just stick with Dean and Sam,” Charlie says. “But yeah. They told me last week that all the angels fell from Heaven and stuff, so—”

“We didn’t _fall_ ,” the girl says vehemently. “We were _expelled_.”

“Right. Sorry – ”

“What do you know of Castiel?” she asks urgently.

“Well, I know of him, never actually met him—”

“Is he with…Dean and Sam?”

Charlie knows full well that Castiel is with the brothers in the Batcave, but from what she understands he’s not too popular with Heaven at the moment. “He ah…he _was_. Before all…this.”

“You don’t know where he is?”

“Um, no. Sorry.”

The girl looks suddenly despondent, and Charlie feels guilty. “Were you friends?”

“He is my brother,” she says. “I fought beside him for millenia. I commanded in his army during the civil war. I would follow him to the ends of the earth, and I am not alone. Castiel has many enemies, but he has many friends as well.”

“Oh. Well…maybe we could find him?”

“I’d like that.”

“Cool…um…I’ll see if Dean’s heard from him…what’s your name?”

“Athaliah.”

“Athaliah,” Charlie repeats. “That’s a really cool name.”

“ _God is exalted_ ,” she says. “And yours?”

“Charlie.”

* * *

Two hours later Charlie and Athaliah are on the road, having stopped at a corner store for more snacks than Charlie has ever seen in her life – Athaliah hasn’t eaten properly since she fell and wants to try as much human food as she can, to work out what she likes. Charlie had rung Dean, for one of the strangest conversations she’s had in a while:

“Dean, there’s a fallen angel in my house.”

“What?”

“I found her threatening a cashier at the corner store. What do I do with her?”

“Well…is she hot?”

“Very, but – _priorities_ , okay?”

“Does she wanna kill Cas?”

“She says they’re friends.”

“Didn’t think he had any of those upstairs. What’s her name?”

“Athaliah.”

“Hold on. _Cas!”_ he bellowed. “D’you know an angel called Athaliah?”

A grave, distant voice replied, “Yes. She was a good friend.”

Dean returned to the phone. “Bring your angel round for a play date.”


	2. Chapter 2

It’s just gone eight in the morning when Charlie and Athaliah arrive at the bunker. Dean answers their knock, barefoot and wearing a robe, and Charlie grins at the sight of him.

“Did I wake you up?”

“What, a man can’t be comfortable in his own home?” Dean pulls Charlie in for a hug, raises his eyebrows at Athaliah and waves them both inside.

“Where is Castiel?” Athaliah asks, looking around the room as if Dean has hidden Castiel behind a bookshelf.

“Asleep. Hasn’t been much of a morning person since he went mortal. He’ll be out around ten, unless we wake him…but he’s a grumpy son of a bitch if you do that. How long have you two been driving?”

“All night.” Charlie makes a beeline for the kitchen. “Please tell me you have Red Bull or something.”

Dean makes a disgusted noise in his throat. “You’re lucky we have _coffee._ ’Specially the way Cas goes through it.”

He joins Charlie in the kitchen to brew the coffee – “Does your angel drink coffee?”

“She hasn’t tried it.” Charlie glances over at Athaliah, who’s now browsing through a collection of old leatherbound tomes and flipping them open. “She likes orange tic-tacs and most kinds of ice cream.”

“How long’s it been since she last took a vessel?”

“Uh…the fall of Troy.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Good luck with her.”

 

* * *

 

True to Dean’s prediction, shortly before ten a man with short, messy black hair comes out in an old t-shirt and pair of plaid pajama pants.

“Mornin, Cas,” Dean says, shoving a mug of coffee into his hands. “Brought you a friend.”

Castiel looks up, startled, and his face is just as Carver Edlund described – eyes blue as the sky (Carver Edlund, as a general rule, sucked at figurative language) and narrowed with either sleep or confusion, before widening in recognition.

“Athaliah?”

“Castiel,” she returns, getting to her feet. Charlie expects them to hug the crap out of each other, given what Athaliah said about Castiel – but, fallen or not, they’re angels. They stand awkwardly a few feet apart, holding unwavering eye contact.

“I thought you were dead,” Athaliah says.

“I get that a lot.”

Pause.

“It’s good to see you again, Athaliah. You have been a loyal friend.”

“And you a worthy leader.”

Castiel suddenly seems crushed with sadness. “I was never worthy. Not of leadership, not of Heaven, certainly not of loyalty.”

“Come on, Cas,” Dean interrupts, but Athaliah raises a hand and he falls silent.

“I am two millenia older than you, Castiel. I have fought countless battles under countless generals. I was Michael’s lieutenant, I served the archangels. And yet, when you stood against Raphael, I stood beside you. Because _you_ were worthy.”

“You don’t – ”

“Don’t insult my knowledge,” Athaliah tells him sharply. “We’ve been watching you, Castiel. Every angel who ever swore their allegiance to you. You were true to our Father’s purpose. There is no guilt in that.”

Though her words seem to be comforting, Athaliah’s delivery of them makes it seem as though she’s about to smite Castiel off the face of the planet, and Dean and Charlie exchange glances.

“Some play date,” Charlie whispers.

“At least she’s being nice to him,” Dean whispers back.

“Yeah, but he looks like a kicked puppy.”

“That’s just Cas. He has his kicked puppy look, and his sleepy kitten look, and his blank look, and once in a while his smiter look.”

“I can hear you, Dean.”

“Yeah, I know you can,” Dean says lazily, stretching out on his chair. “I’m gonna go shower. Don’t let him cook anything,” he adds to Charlie.

“I’m perfectly capable of making toast, Dean.”

“No you’re not,” Dean calls down the hallway.

 

* * *

 

“That was the Righteous Man?” Athaliah asks once Dean’s gone.

“Yes,” Castiel responds.

“The one you gave everything for?”

“Yes.”

Charlie wonders if the angels are even aware of her presence right now. She clears her throat noisily, sticks her feet on the table with a loud thud, but they don’t show any sign of noticing her.

“Is he aware of your feelings for him?”

“Of course he is.”

Charlie rolls her eyes. “Hey, Castiel.”

“Yes?”

“He’s not.”

“What?”

“I know Dean,” she says matter-of-factly. “You know what matters to him? Sticking around. You know what you _weren’t_ doing till you fell? Sticking around.”

“But—”

“No buts,” she says firmly. “I’ve spent like, ten minutes in the same room as you two and the UST is killing me. Go talk to him.”

Castiel turns, and she hastily adds, “Maybe after he’s finished his shower, yeah? Don’t wanna come on too strong.”

 

* * *

 

Charlie decides it’s time to leave Dean and Castiel alone for a bit and, after promising they’ll be back for dinner to eat their food, she and Athaliah head out for a drive.

Charlie’s never seen anyone so curious in her life. Athaliah watches the scenery go by with her brow slightly furrowed, head cocked to one side in a way that reminds Charlie of a sparrow, and watches her drive with an intense concentration that’s slightly unsettling. After they’ve driven the same stretch of road for ten minutes and not passed another vehicle, Charlie pulls over.

“Do you want me to teach you to drive?” she asks.

Athaliah looks up, startled. “Would you?”

Charlie shrugs. “You’ve been watching me for the past twenty minutes. You want to learn, right?”

Teaching an angel to drive isn’t as bad as Charlie thought it would be, even though she spends most of the afternoon with her nails digging into the passenger seat trying to remember if her insurance is up to date. Athaliah learns quickly, a look of grim concentration on her face as she practices easing off the clutch and onto the accelerator, changing gears, turning, stopping and starting – by the time the sun is sinking below the horizon, Charlie thinks she could get her licence and feels a bit resentful of the three years it took her to learn the same stuff.

They take a break while the sun is low, perched on the bonnet of the car, and Athaliah watches the darkening sky with a sort of reverence.

“I forgot how beautiful Earth can be,” she says softly, and Charlie just says ‘yeah’ because she’s never been one for sunsets and appreciation of nature and she’s pretty sure Earth’s a tip compared to Heaven, but she wants to know more about the angel sitting beside her.

“So what were you doing last time? You were on earth, I mean.”

“I was protecting the prophet Cassandra.”

“Cassandra?” Charlie repeats. “Like, Trojan War Cassandra? She was you guys’ prophet? I thought she was…you know… _Greek_.”

Athaliah sighs. “Most of our ancient prophets were _appropriated_ by Apollo. His sphere of influence was small and insignificant without prophecy. He had some gift of foresight, and was responsible for Delphi, but prophets who appear in myth are mostly ours.”

“I thought archangels were in charge of looking after prophets.”

“That was a recent development.”

 “So what does Cassandra have to do with the will of God and all that?”

“The fall of Troy resulted in the foundation of Rome. Rome had to be founded for Christ to die. Cassandra had to make the prophecy, in order for it to be fulfilled – but if she was believed, Troy wouldn’t fall. I had to strike madness into the hearts of all who believed the prophecy.”

“That’s kind of a dick move,” Charlie says bluntly.

Athaliah glares at her, and Charlie clears her throat awkwardly. “Um…I mean…we should be heading back, I bet the boys are waiting for us.”


	3. Chapter 3

When Charlie and Athaliah return to the bunker, the boys have set up a projector screen and the opening credits of a movie are playing.

“Day six of Castiel’s ongoing cultural education,” Sam explains. Charlie hasn’t seen him all day, and figures he’s been in bed – he looks like hell, especially in the flickering light of the screen, but she decides to keep such an observation to herself.

“Good to see you, Charlie,” he adds as an afterthought, and waves a giant hand at the two spare seats on his side of the table. “Athaliah, right? Hi, I’m Sam.”

“I’ve heard much about you,” Athaliah returns.

“So what are we watching?” Charlie asks.

“Dead Poet’s Society.”

“Stupid movie,” Dean mutters from across the table.

“You don’t have to watch it, Dean. Besides, I think Cas’ll like it.”

“Sam says it’s a classic,” Castiel says helpfully.

Dean grunts, swinging his feet onto the table. “Fine.”

Charlie turns to Sam, mouthing _whipped_ at him, and Sam grins back, raising his eyebrows in agreement.

After they finish the movie, Sam heads out to get pizza.

“It’s the one problem with this place,” Dean sighs. “No address. Can’t get pizza delivered. Charlie, you staying here long?”

Charlie shrugs. “As long as you want me to.”

“Don’t you have a job?”

She glances sideways. “I’m…uh…between jobs right now.”

“What happened to the last one?”

“I uh…got fired.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Do I wanna know?”

“Probably not,” Charlie replies, changing the subject. “So, you introduced Cas to Harry Potter yet?”

“Nah. But I’m thinking we could marathon Star Wars tomorrow.”

Charlie’s eyes light up. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

* * *

 

 

Charlie hadn’t had the opportunity to explore the entire Men of Letters bunker last time she was here, but it’s impressive to say the least. The bunker has four permanent residents already – the boys, Castiel, and the prophet Kevin who came up from the bunker’s library after Sam came back with pizza. Kevin’s a pretty cool kid – he and Charlie bond over Skyrim and Minecraft, and Kevin’s more impressed than a nineteen year old prophet should be that Charlie’s a hacker.

“Shower pressure’s amazing,” Dean says reverently as he gives Charlie and Athaliah the guided tour, nodding in the direction of the bathroom. “Oh, and the beds? _Memory foam.”_

“I should just move in,” Charlie says, almost without thinking.

“You should,” Dean agrees. “We have plenty of room here. You could become a Woman of Letters.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m serious,” Dean says, and one glance at his face tells her he is. “Move in. At least while you’re between jobs, and you’re babysitting a fallen angel.”

Charlie grins. “Well, if you insist.”

The room Dean shows Charlie into is fully furnished, and she’s already imagining where to set up her posters and which books should go on which shelves as she dumps her overnight bag on the bed. Across the hallway is Athaliah, and next door is Kevin. The room is smaller than in her current apartment, but the prospect of living here with the boys and a couple of fallen angels is too thrilling for her to care.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Charlie doesn’t know what she expected from life at the bunker, but it’s a lot quieter than she thought it would be. She moves in officially after three days, taking a road trip back to her apartment to collect her stuff and letting Athaliah drive half the way. Dean introduces her – by way of Skype – to Garth, an unapologetically strange man who runs the network of hunters, and she works with him to set up real human identities for Castiel and Athaliah – Castiel is now the twin brother of his vessel Jimmy, Athaliah the younger sister of her vessel Hannah. They also create a number of aliases, inspired by the angels’ new-found favourite characters – Castiel claims John Smith after Charlie introduces him to Doctor Who, and Charlie has to talk Athaliah out of calling herself Eowyn because _that’s not actually a real name, but yeah I agree she’s badass._

Sam’s still recovering from the trials, Kevin’s still hunted by demons, and Castiel’s a marked man in the eyes of most of Heaven’s fallen angels, so it’s only Dean, Charlie and Athaliah who venture out of the bunker for any reason – with the exception of their trip to the tattoo parlour.

“Anti-possession tattoos,” Dean explains, and his hand goes to the collar of his shirt as if to pull it down and show Charlie, but she reminds him that she’s already read about their tattoos in the Supernatural books, and she’s sure he has a very nice chest but she doesn’t particularly need to see it.

Sam and Kevin stay behind to ‘hold the fort,’ as Dean cheerfully puts it, but the twin glares he gets from them tells him exactly what they think of this idea.

Charlie and Athaliah decide to get their tattoos on their shoulders, while Castiel opts for the chest like Dean and Sam. It hurts far more than she expected it to – of course, she was drunk when she got her other tattoo done, and Dean offers to hold her hand while she’s in the chair. She scoffs at the idea at first, but soon she’s clutching Dean’s hand and he’s muttering “Fuck, Charlie, gonna break my fingers,” while the angels look on apprehensively.

Castiel is next to get inked, and Charlie notices how Dean makes the same offer of holding his hand. She expects Castiel to decline – he’s tough, after all – but Castiel takes Dean’s hand and doesn’t let go the entire time.

Athaliah has it worst – she’s only been in her vessel for two weeks and has never used – worn? it in battle or _angel stuff,_ so human pain is entirely foreign to her. She grits her teeth throughout the process, clutching at Charlie’s hand, and shooting death glares at Castiel when he offers helpful hints about how one becomes accustomed to this physical pain which comes with humanity and how it’s an intriguing thing really. At this point Dean ushers him out the door and takes him out for burgers.

Tattoos completed, Charlie and Athaliah wander through town, basking in the warm midday sun and eating ice cream for lunch. Athaliah seems to have made it her personal mission to try every possible ice cream flavour, and she hasn’t found one she doesn’t like yet. They keep a constant supply of the stuff in the bunker freezer, and she goes through a tub a day if Charlie doesn’t stop her.

Apart from every kind of ice cream, Athaliah has eclectic tastes. She likes elderflower cordial (Charlie doesn’t even remember how they found that out) turkish delight, minted peas and mashed potatoes. She _doesn’t_ like beer, coffee, burgers or anything spicy, and Charlie’s holding out hope they’ll find some kind of meat or greasy food that she likes before the boys mutiny.

They’re sitting on a bench in an otherwise deserted park, Charlie finishing the remains of her icecream, when it happens – a man appears out of nowhere, eyes glinting obsidian, and heads straight for Athaliah.

_Demon,_ Charlie’s brain screams at her, and she knows there’s something she should do, she and Dean planned for this, but her mind is going blank as the man reaches Athaliah and leers at her – “What do we have here? Lost your wings, pretty angel?”

The man hasn’t seemed to have noticed Charlie, which is to her advantage. She reaches into her handbag, pulling out the little bottle of holy water that Dean makes her carry around with her, and throws it in the demon’s face. He yells in pain, releasing Athaliah and turning on Charlie, and she manages to give him another faceful before he sends the bottle flying out of her hand and she watches it spill out onto the ground with an ever-growing sense of hopelessness.

Her impending death never comes, though. With a loud yell the man drops to his knees, black smoke erupting from his mouth, and Athaliah’s grabbing her hand and dragging her across the park and towards the Impala several blocks away.

“What – happened?” she gasps.

“Enochian exorcism,” Athaliah replies briefly. “Much quicker than Latin – but it only worked because he was distracted. Come on, demons never travel alone.”

Dean and Castiel are waiting for them, leaning against the bonnet of the Impala, and Dean turns in alarm when he sees them sprinting towards him.

“Demon,” Athaliah says as soon as they’re within earshot. “ _Drive_.”

Dean doesn’t need telling twice, and in moments the four of them have piled into the car and Dean’s speeding back to the bunker.

“What happened, how’d you guys get away?”

“Holy water,” Charlie says. “And Athaliah did this badass exorcism thing—”

“Enochian,” Athaliah says, with a glance at Castiel. “I don’t think he was expecting Charlie to fight back. They expect us all to be scattered, wandering alone and vulnerable.”

“Most are,” Castiel says gravely. “They’ll be picking us off one by one.”

An uncomfortable silence falls in the car, weighted heavily by the knowledge that it’s only a matter of time before Castiel and Athaliah are the last angels standing.


	5. Chapter 5

Two weeks after the angels fell, the inhabitants of the bunker have settled into a routine. Dean and Charlie are the breadwinners of the group, Dean running his usual credit card scams and Charlie hacking. Kevin, for wont of anything better to do, is working on translating the angel tablet, and though they don’t say anything to the others, Charlie knows the angels are holding onto hope that they’ll be able to take Heaven back somehow. She’s heard them whispering about trials and gathering the fallen angels together and fighting Metatron, but neither seems to believe it’s possible.

In addition to this, Charlie and the boys take turns teaching the angels the basics of human life – how to cook (Cas, in particular, takes to cooking like a fish to water) do laundry, drive (Charlie’s car is put on the line for this, because no way in hell does Dean let Cas or Athaliah drive the Impala) use the internet (it takes a long time before either understand the concept of _don’t click the popup ads_ ) and more industry-specific things like how to make salt rounds, loading and shooting various guns, and a run-down on monster lore. In return the angels teach them the Enochian exorcism and how to fight with knives and swords, and Charlie has never felt more badass in her life than practicing sword fighting with Athaliah.

At eleven one morning, late enough for even Castiel and Kevin (who has adopted the sleeping pattern of a typical nineteen year old boy over the past few weeks) to be up, there’s a knock on the bunker door.

Dean glances at Sam, who shrugs, and the brothers cautiously make their way to the door with Charlie, Kevin and the angels trailing after them to peer curiously at the door.

“Hello, boys,” a short British man says, before spotting Charlie and Athaliah lurking behind the brothers. “Girls too? Damn. Now I can’t use my line.”

“Crowley,” Dean almost growls. “How the hell did you find us?”

“I have my ways. Aren’t you going to invite me in? Rude not to.”

Without waiting for a response, Crowley strides into the bunker. Kevin makes a move towards him, fist balled, but Sam holds him back.

“Cut the crap, Crowley. Why are you here?”

“You exorcised my scout,” Crowley says, and he looks mildly offended.

“ _You_ sent him?” Charlie bursts out.

Crowley narrows his eyes at her in confusion. “Who are you?” He glances between the brothers. “Let me guess. Which one o’ you two is she shagging?”

“Dude, gross,” Charlie says, wrinkling her nose. “Uh, no offence guys.”

“None taken,” Dean assures her.

“So what’s your deal?” Sam asks. “Back running Hell?”

“God, no. I’m human now, Moose. Got you to thank for that.” He inclines his head in Sam’s direction.

“I didn’t finish the trial.”

“No. And do you know which bit you left out? Making me _mortal_. So thanks to you, I have no power, no way of getting back to hell – and an eternity of _remorse._ From what I understand, Abaddon’s taken over downstairs and I’m top of her hit list.” Crowley glances around the bunker, eyes alighting on a half empty bottle of whiskey. “May I?”

“You killed my mom!” Kevin shouts.

“Oh, that. Sorry, should have mentioned. I didn’t actually kill her. Gave her a choice – get out of the country, don’t contact you till I gave the all clear, or I _would_ kill her. I believe she’s in…Australia.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” Kevin growls.

“Really, Kevin. You’re angry that I killed your mum, you’re angry that I _didn’t_ kill your mum – can we just let it go for a while?”

“You didn’t tell us what you’re doing here, Crowley,” Dean says.

“I just told you, I got every demon in hell on my tail thanks to you – ” he glares at Sam – “And – ”

“If you’ve got every demon in hell on your tail, how’d you send one after us?”

“Demons are stupid. That one didn’t realise I’m human – or maybe he did but still thought he had to take orders from me, I don’t know. But he was the last one who doesn’t want me dead, and _you exorcised him!”_

“So you want us to keep you safe?” Dean asks incredulously. “ _You_.”

“You’re not my biggest fan. I get that, believe me. But think about it. I know too much. You leave me for the demons, they can’t kill me. They’re going to torture me. And what they’re going to want is to come after you two. And believe me, boys, my pain threshold is not what it used to be.”

Dean and Sam exchange glances.

“Oh, and I forgot the best part,” Crowley adds. “I can help your angels take back Heaven.”


End file.
